Their Lives
by AeonFirebrand
Summary: A series of five shorts based on the ever-wonderful Ouran High School Host Club. Mostly A/U, with K ratings and one mild T. Enjoy.


I wrote these for my own 'write-one-story-while-listening-to-songs-on-shuff le.' You know, that one where you can only write the story during the length of a song, and then you have to leave it? Well, I found that impossible, so I changed the rules so that I could listen to the song twice, once for writing and once for editing. But the new rule was that I had to include at least one line from the song in my writing. It was hard, being a person who can't help but edit like crazy, but I think it turned out alright.

CONTEST: See if you can find which line in each story was part of the song. First person to match the line to the song lyric for each story gets a shoutout in the description, spamming of reviews for his/her stories and a shoutout on the top of my Bio.

P.S. The line might be slightly changed, like 'I' into 'he' for the correct POV. Also, stories may contain more than one line. Any line from the song that's in the story counts, but bonus points if you get all the lines I'm looking for.

Enjoy.

All he sees is gold.

~One-shot, Tamaki/Kyoya, Set in 19th century America, Rated K+

Song: All I See Is Gold

Artist: Bridgit Mendler

Song Length: 2:53

He didn't want to see that color anymore. That bright, shining gold that paled any other color in comparison.

_His _gold.

He wonders where that gold is. By the sea? Disguised in London? Passing through a bustling crowd?

Really, all he sees anymore is gold.

He receives seas of flowers every day; young, beautiful ladies send them, hoping for his hand in marriage. But he's not interested in them. He's alone.

All he's interested in is gold. And when those yellow roses appear, they look too similar to that gold for him not to tremble, clenching his hands, despising himself for his weakness.

Then summer comes around, and the gold makes an appearance yet again, torturing him. He's with _her, _a girl he cannot bring himself to dislike, but she's the one who took the gold from him.

It's like his mind is gold.

_All he sees is gold._

And as he, Kyoya, watches Haruhi leave with _his_ gold, _his Tamaki, _he can't help the small cold tear that trickles down his face.

Because that golden hair was his first.

And so was that hand.

And those lips.

Those eyes.

Those legs, that waist, that neck.

And that heart.

They were all his, but now they were gone.

He wonders what could have been.

~One-shot Haruhi/Kyoya, A/U, Rated K

Song: Black Horse and the Cherry Tree

Artist: KT Tunstall

Song Length: 2:52

He had always been the blackest. Much more cold, calculating, and shrewd than the rest of the foals, he had been shunned as an oddity, a freak of nature.

Now he was stuck here, waiting in a pen, ready to start a life on a new farm, and already pessimistic about his chances of finding a mare who would court a freak like him. He was stuck next to this quiet little thing, a filly surely younger than himself but certainly just as mature. The little one's pelt was ordinary, a chestnut brown, and her build certainly wasn't one of a purebred horse such as himself, but her words and actions conveyed a sense of maturity and frankness that matched even his own.

As the little horse stood beside him, muttering about some sale on the feed she ate, Kyoya couldn't help but be attracted to _something _about her, something he couldn't quite place his hoof on.

And by the time they were separated to be auctioned off, Kyoya couldn't help but hope the same human would buy the two of them. But, of course, fate went its way, and the two were separated.

_So maybe you're not the one for me, _Kyoya thought, _but at least I saw you walk away, under a cherry tree and into a sunset. It was a glorious sight._

Now he was the big black horse under the cherry tree, and he couldn't help but think about that filly and wonder what could have been.

He was ready to move on, but she saved him.

~One-shot, Haruhi/Mori, A/U w/dark themes, Rated T

Song: I Just Wanna Run

Artist: The Downtown Fiction

Song Length: 3:20

He was ready to die.

Like, _really_ ready.

Mori had nearly had enough of it. The constant sleepless nights, demanding tasks and never-ending requests for cake in addition to the demands of his own life had nearly worn him to his limit. He was sick of feeling cheap, cheated, and abused. He felt like running, throwing everything away, huddling in an abandoned alley somewhere until he died from hunger or thirst.

Time passed and now it was his birthday, and Mori convinced himself it was time. Time to start his own life, or die in the process. He had a plan; move to America, get a nice job and a nice wife with nice kids and a nice house where everything was nice, nice, nice, and maybe even perfect. But Mori would rather die than leave his cousin, who, by the way, was the source of all his trouble. Mori prepared himself to die as he went home to the family dojo, leaving the Host Club without even saying a word. He adorned himself in a kimono and drew his family's kanata, gazing at the blade in silent contemplation. He drew the point up to his chest, ready to thrust the blade in until he heard the quiet _creak _of the dojo doors. Quickly lowering the blade, Mori hunched over in shame, sure that whoever was at the door had seen the blade at his chest.

"Takashi?"

Mori inhaled sharply at the voice. That tone, the frankness in her voice, the familiarity; he knew it was Haruhi at the door. But why had she called him Takashi?

And why was she here?

Mori stiffened as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, her warm body pressed against his back, and he realized that they were both trembling.

"Takashi." she repeated, and he felt a certain pain in his chest when she called him by his first name, "I-I came over because you didn't seem like yourself...I thought you m-might be sick..." Mori heard a sniffle and felt a warm, wet tear drip on his shirt.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the sharp pain appeared in his chest again. And when he turned around to pull the girl into a proper embrace, the katana forgotten, he knew for certain that she was the only one who could have saved him.

And as Hunny peeked in the dojo and saw the two of them, he couldn't help but smile sadly.

_Like a game of chess, I predicted your moves...Takashi, be happy._

The word 'friend', he found out, could be painful. Extremely so.

~One-shot, Haruhi/Hikaru, Warning: Major Character Death, Rated T

Song: Just Be Friends (English Version)

Artist: Amanda Lee

Song Length: 6:11

Hikaru remembered his rejection. _She _had told him no, that she loved someone else, but he couldn't accept that. At least she was still a friend, and she hadn't left his life completely. At least he still had a chance.

He remembered that first footstep in America. He had been elated, positively brimming with excitement at seeing _her _again, at being able to be with _her_ for another year. Maybe he could convince her to be his. He could try, at least.

Then he remembered his first time in _her _room. Of course, His Royal Idiocy Milord had been there. And he had been hugging her. Tightly. But that detail was of minimal importance, he decided, because at least he still had a _chance_.

Then he remembered _her_ telling him about the engagement to milord, and suddenly his chances didn't seem so good.

Then he remembered shunning _her, _shunning _him, _shunning _everyone. _Kaoru had been his only solace, but eventually Hikaru left even his brother. He didn't attend the wedding; he shredded the bride and groom photos that were sent to him, and ignored phone calls upon phone calls piled up in his answering maching as he worked his job day and night, if only to drown the pain.

Then he remembered the news report. It was a collapsed subway tunnel; apparently she had tried to save all the others, including her husband, keeping them alive for _six _days while she eventually worked herself to death. Of course, he was heartbroken.

And no matter how he screamed out only echoes answered him. From then on his house was filled with liquor and tears.

And one day he realized; instead of pining over what never could have been, he should have been a better friend. To _her, _to milord, and to everyone.

A _friend._

The word pained him, because he didn't deserve to be called such. He could only imagine how milord must be feeling. He should have just abandoned his unrequited feelings to be a friend. A _friend._

_ Friend._

Now tears spilled down his cheeks as he reached for the phone. He dialed the numbers, and with a trembling hand held the device to his ears. With a small, dark smile, he uttered a few words into the answering machine on the other end.

"Hey...milord...remember me?"

His world came crashing down, with only her words to blame.

~One-shot, Haruhi/Tamaki, Rated K+, perhaps T

Song: What I Know

Artist: Parachute

Song Length: 4:13

I'm not sure why I called it dumb. Her ideas were always amazing; _she _was always amazing. But I was in a bad mood, and she had a long day at work, and we both snapped, screaming until she had left, slamming the door behind her with a loud _thump._ Then I was on my knees, my head in my hands, completely regretting what I had done.

She was my light.

My love.

My angel.

Haruhi was everything to me, but I had treated her as I promised myself I never would.

Would she forgive me? Could she? Yes, I rationalized, because we were engaged, and we loved each other. She would come back, and love me, just like always.

So I resolved to drive down to the local flower shop for an 'I'm sorry' bouquet. The white stripes on the road blurred and eased my mind, and the butterflies in my stomach settled as I drove back with white roses, thinking everything would be alright.

Until I came home to find her bags packed and eyes full of tears. She said the impossible as I dropped the forgotten flowers, my own eyes filling with tears. And then I'm on my knees, not believing what I'm hearing.

She said she was _in love _with someone else.

And my world came crashing down.

So, how was it? I went back to re-read and realized that I must be in a mood for writing depressing love stories. Well, whatever, right? Remember to like, favorite and review.


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